


The promise

by Miss_from_Earth



Category: Aidan Turner - Fandom, The Hobbit RPF, dean o'gorman - Fandom
Genre: AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:14:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_from_Earth/pseuds/Miss_from_Earth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ispired by tragic earthquake in Nepal in 2015. Dean filmed there almost in the same days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The promise

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my dear Draws the death, who translated it from Russian to English!
> 
> You can find this story in Russian there https://ficbook.net/readfic/3196241

Aidan was rushing the studio at the top speed with no time to apologize to everyone he touched along his way. He was late. He was terribly late! He had early shooting but he had overslept, and now everyone was sitting and waiting for him. Shame! Finally he saw a cherished door, jerked opened it, burst inside and said in a hurry:

\- Good morning! I’m sorry, guys. Five minutes for makeup, – and raced to the makeup artist.

Thank god that Poldark has an uncomplicated makeup! It’s not Keely to sit several hours in an arm–chair and be afraid not to lose your ear or wig all the time.

\- Would you like some coffee, Aid? – the pretty assistant of the director quietly appeared behind the back while the makeup artist started to wiz with his scar.

\- Yes, Rosie, thank you! You’re a miracle! – he smiled taking a large gulp of icy mineral water from the bottle which she put in front of him. – Had Edward shouted hard? – Turner asked guiltily because he knew the explosive nature of the director.

\- No, – Rosie shrugged. – He had thought that you wouldn’t come today and had wanted to call your understudy to film the scenes where your back was at least.

\- Come on! I was one hour late only. It had been worse, – he blissfully sat back and closed his eyes. Now there were twenty minutes to be in the gentle hands of the make–up artist, then change quickly – and work.Aidan finished his lunch, looked at his watch briefly and decided that he had enough time to go at full lick for a dessert. It was necessary to buy more – to  treat colleagues as an apology for being late in the morning. There were not many people in the café. Aidan had taken pile of all kinds of pastries and a couple of croissants for himself and was going back when he was hailed.

Aidan didn’t see that the makeup artist and Rosie exchanged puzzled glances. Aidan took lunch break as manna because there had been nothing in his stomach since yesterday except the cup of coffee brought by Rosie. He snapped the standard actor’s ration greedily, swallowed hot substance and thought if he had time to run to the cafe for a croissant. Despite the unusual time he wanted the croissants badly. Colleagues glanced at him in a strange way and hesitated to go to him once more during the breaks. What was it for? It seemed such as there were no Nesbitt, Freeman and O'Gorman who had pestered everybody with their practical jokes in a such way that whole group had dashed aside everything by the end of filming. Although what’s the reason to lie himself – he missed them. Especially Dean, who had become in a couple of years a friend, a brother... Almost everything.

\- Hi, Turner! – a bit haughty Bloom was going towards him through the hall.

Their relationships always were only working. Orlando nosed up to the youngest dwarven prince a little, but Aidan didn’t dwell on that and tried to be just polite and calm with him as Dean. It seemed like nothing could ruffle him. May be because Aidan knew that the sea of passions raged under these calm and nice smiles. And these blue eyes could become brighter than sky and burn not worse than the hottest sun.

\- Hi! – Irishman nodded glancing at the watch. – What brings you here?

\- Nothing special, I’m trying to one project, – Bloom jerked his head vaguely and then asked unusually sympathetically and seemed even warmly. – Well, how are you? Holding up?

\- Yes, fine, – Aidan shrugged.

\- Well, call me, if anything. I have friends at the Embassy, I may know something with their help, – the Briton offered suddenly and pity flashed in his eyes.

\- Well, I have to go, – he shook Aidan’s hand hastily and went away. ‘It’s necessary to look into the network in the evening. It seems like some tale about me appeared again,’ – Turner thought chewing the croissant musingly.In the late afternoon his phone began to burst. After the forth call the director stopped filming, but instead discontented shout, he asked quietly and gently:

Buns were perceived by colleagues with a success, but gladness was too restrained. It was accompanied by strange looks at him and whisperings. It was beginning to enrage, but there was no time to find out the reason.

\- Turner, answer the call.He stumbled on his uncle in the lobby when he was leaving the studio in the evening. Not studio – it’s an assignation house, damn it!

Aidan darted to the table, where desperately vibrating gadget laid, looked at the screen and saw that here were two calls from Richard, one from Adam and several calls from unknown strange numbers, and decided to deal with that later.

\- Hi. You’ve phoned, – Aidan started but stopped because he saw still the same compassionate look.

\- Richard shook his hand, then drawed Aidan to himself and patted on his back.

\- Hi, – Armitage said quietly. – Any news?

\- Which? – Turner couldn’t stand it more and started to break out. – What’s going on, motherfuckers? Why have you looked at me for all day as if somebody died but I don’t know?!

Richard was staring at him unblinking for a minute and then asked with suddenly shrunken voice:

\- Have you read news?

\- No. I overslept today, jumped up, put on my clothes and ran here. I didn’t even have time to drink coffee. What’s happened? – fear began to approach slowly with the understanding that apparently he didn’t know anything, that something happened. Something bad with someone of his close people…

\- Earthquake in Nepal. Up to nine points. There's all in ruins, – uncle pronounced.

\- And what? – Aidan clapped eyes uncomprehendingly. – What do I care? Of course, it’s bad; a lot of people probably have died. However, how does this relate to me? I have no friends in Nepal, thank God. Only one crazy Kiwi is filming in some Kathmandu, motherfuckers!

Richard raised his eyebrows in astonishment, and then sympathy in his blue eyes became even more.

\- Aid, Kathmandu is the capital of Nepal. There's epicenter of the earthquake, – he said even quieter and put his hand on the Irishman’s shoulder trying to calm him down, but there was no earthly use already.He took out his phone from the pocket and found the right number with trembling fingers. The painfully familiar blue–eyed face of O'Gorman smiled him from the screen. Turner lowered his hand with the phone slowly and asked with almost shrunken voice:

‘Subscriber is out of coverage,’ – autoresponder squeaked loudly.

Aidan tried to take a breath but couldn’t, air stuck somewhere on the halfway and refused to move on to the lungs. Floor went from under his feet, and knees almost bent. In the wide–open eyes, as in the running line, it was possible to read the endless stream of thoughts, questions and feelings, in a split second overflowed his mind. No! No! No! That’s incredible! God, please, no! Only not Dean!

\- When?

\- Everything started yesterday evening. That has been talked about in the news on all channels and on the Internet since morning, – Richard sympathized sincerely and concerned for his friend. For both of them. He knew, as no one, what O’Gorman meant for Aidan.

\- Lists… Are there any lists? They usually make the lists of sufferers… – the Irishman tried to gather thoughts in a heap, throwing regrown hair from his face and squeezing them with the force in a fist.

\- Now there’re only the lists of perished and unaccounted–for. Neither there nor there are neither Dean nor the members of his crew. In the news is written that the telephone connection in Nepal is working very badly. May be everything is Okay with him, but his phone just doesn’t work, – Richard tried to comfort him.

\- Yeah, – Aidan nodded slowly. – Okay, I will go… If you know something… – his voice trembled so it was difficult to link words into sentences.

\- Of course. Hold up! – he patted on his friend’s back encouragingly once more and went away.By three o'clock in the morning the stockpiles of cigarettes in his apartment were exhausted, but he had no energy to go for the new ones. All flights to Nepal were canceled, air–planes flew from there only. Or there were charity organizations which you could fly with only if you had special documents. Even under the best situation, even if he strained every possible connection, he would receive the documents in a week only. Most likely that it would be too late a week later…Aidan called O’Gorman for the thousandth time, heard the autoresponder and dropped the phone on the floor just relaxing his fingers. Who will pester me with night (night for London) conversations? Who will support me when it seems that the whole world is against me? Who? How will that world be without you, Dean? How will I be without you?

Night outside the window smoothly turned into foggy morning, light rain drummed softly on the glass, drops slowly trickled down. Hope that everything would be Okay melted as slowly. There was no hysterics – only pain and desperation. The count of victims on the screen of the tablet leafed over the numbers and the new name appeared, yet, thank God, stranger's name. Everything deliquesced and doubled in front of his eyes. The next name on the screen forced him to bend over because of unbearable pain somewhere deep inside, and he fell into a strange unconsciousness.

Dean… Heart fluttered somewhere in the throat. How is that, Dean? Why the heck did you go to this fucking Nepal, brother? Isn’t the whole world enough for you? Has it ended like that, Dean? What about your promise to come to me on my birthday? What about our plans to visit Ireland where I promised to prove you that there is no place which could be better than this? What about your premiere where you promised to invite me? And the portrait which you have been promising to finish nearly for a year, but still no changes? You always keep your word, Dean! How is that?

Anxiety and uncertainty tore the heart in pieces, messages from O’Gorman family were joyless too. They appealed to the Embassy with an official request and were promised to receive the report. They regularly phoned Dean and his crew, but so far no one answered.

Aidan rushed in the flat and darted to the tablet. There was no Dean in Skype, last notes in social networks were old. Turner lit a cigarette frantically and started to read the news from which all turned cold inside. The country almost disappeared from Earth with the disaster; the count of victims surpassed all imaginable and unimaginable numbers. It was real meat grinder and according to the latest records Dean had to be in its very epicenter. After a few hours of useless calls to all existing hot lines and efforts to find out anything concrete, Aidan called Orlando and asked him to help. He said that he would recall as soon as he had the result. The Irishman tried not to think what kind of result it could be.

__\- Well, that’s it. We won’t see each other soon, – the Irishman stated sadly looking at as sad as his, but blue, eyes._ _

__The filming had finished, it’s time to come home for him. Wellington airport was empty, despite the middle of the day. They were standing in the middle of an empty hall and were trying to joke, although they understood that they parted almost forever. The evening of the third film premiere was not considered._ _

__\- Once, in early rainy morning, I appeared in your apartment, Turner. Wet, hungry and tired, penniless – promised Dean. – And just try to put me out!_ _

__\- I will wait, – Aidan smiled with effort_ _desperately hoping that this time O'Gorman would remain loyal to himself and fulfill the promise. He always fulfilled his promises.__

 

Nasty sound gimleted his brain, like a drill, venturing millimeter after millimeter and pulling him out of the blissful darkness. Aidan flinched and tried to understand what was happening. He was sitting at the kitchen table, next to him, there were an ashtray full of cigarette butts and a glass of whiskey, which he had not touched. Right in front of his face the tablet laid, flashing shrunken battery icon, and vile nasty sound became more and more intrusive. Finally, he realized that somebody rang the doorbell and went slowly to open the door, did not even ask a question, who was that crazy breaking to him so early. Wet because of wet weather golden hair swirled in elastic rings, strange coloured darkened rumpled jacket with a hole on the elbow and wet on shoulders, embarrassed guilty glance of radiant blue eyes:

\- I'm sorry to wake you, but your address is the only thing I remember about London.

Aidan stepped back and helplessly slid down the wall onto the floor and closed his eyes. Dean ran to him, falling on the knees beside.

\- Aid! Aid, what are you doing? What’s happened with you?

The Irishman said nothing, only clenched unexpected guest in his arms frantically and put his face on Dean’s wet shoulder.

\- I went from the hotel for a minute to buy some beer, – Dean’s quite voice shivered a bit. – Phone stayed on the charge in the room with all things, money and credit cards. In my pocket there were a passport with a ticket home and five hundred bucks on the safe side. I hadn’t come back nearly twenty steps, when it began to shake. After that the hell was, – he gasped reliving it again, but he could not remain silent, he wanted to understand that this nightmare was in the past. – Already not a rich city became the ruins in ten minutes. Panic, fear, death and despair were around... It seemed as if it would never end. Cries of pain, wailing and moaning were heard everywhere. And roar, terrible roar. And the feeling of complete helplessness, that you’re just a little pea in a huge pounder, and it would crush you now just like the others... We came to the airport, but the planes did not fly, there was no connection. Then, there was just a mess with the tickets, and when we were suggested to go to London, I decided that it was better than the waiting for the flight home; no one knew when it would be. And you've already buried me, right? – he tried to pull himself together palming Aidan’s hair and shoulders, but his voice continued trembling as his hands.

\- Never! Hear, never dare to do so! – Turner threatened raising his eyes.

Dean was terribly tired, that stupid beard added him ten years transforming an attractive young man in the respectable father of a family.

\- To do what? – kiwi clapped his eyes innocently. – Fall into the epicenter of the earthquake?

Aidan snorted and began to stand up:

\- You're probably hungry?

\- Up to devils – confirmed Dean.

\- And you want to have a shower?

\- You have no idea how!

\- And you need a tablet or phone to reassure everyone – the last phrase was said with brooked no argument tone.

Dean nodded following the owner of the apartments towards the kitchen.

\- Are you for a long time? – Aidan asked switching on kettle and examining the     contents of the refrigerator.

\- Till you expel me.

Turner paused for a moment, and then got out of the refrigerator with an armload of different food:

\- Then tomorrow it will be necessary to go to the store.

\- Yeah, – half asleep Dean nodded and put his head on his hands on the table.

Aidan put the food back in the refrigerator and sat opposite Dean, he put his chin on his hands, unable to suppress a smile: it was necessary to remember what that irrepressible kiwi had promised him at the other time, and began to prepare mentally.

_He always fulfill his promises._


End file.
